


Hear That Call

by isbmlamloi



Category: A League of Their Own (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:33:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isbmlamloi/pseuds/isbmlamloi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dottie goes home to bury Bob, then returns to see Kit pitch the World Series.  Jimmy deals with the second year of the AAGPBL.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hear That Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaydeefalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/gifts).



> AU where Bob Hinson dies in the war, and Dottie has to decide what part baseball plays in her life afterward.
> 
> Thank you to S and J for the baseball terminology assistance.

"Darn, I had the name right here," the boy complained. "Well, I gotta go back and get this straightened out. Sorry."

 _The hell you will_ , Jimmy thought. He grabbed the telegram out of the boy's hands and shoved him out of the locker room as quickly as possible. The room was silent as he ripped open the envelope and scanned the contents.

> _Mrs. Dorothy K. Hinson_  
>  _Rockford, Il._
> 
> _The Secretary of War asks that I assure you of his deepest sympathy in the loss of your husband, Pfc. Robert M. Hinson. Report record states he died..._  
> 

Jimmy stared at the piece of paper blankly as he parsed the information contained therein. His feet moved on their own down the room, past the anxious faces: Ellen Sue gripped a bat strong enough to crack it, Shirley wrapped her arms around her torso, Evelyn stared at the telegram with dry eyes, and Mae and Doris gripped hands with white knuckles. Others prayed. Some fled the room as Jimmy walked by, but most stayed, watching as his feet led him to stand in front of Dottie.

"I'm sorry, Dottie," he said softly, holding the telegram out to her. As she read it, he saw the finality cross her face, saw a light in her eyes flicker and dim; he saw Dottie Hinson's eyes crinkle into tears, a sight he never expected to witness. Other girls rushed to surround her with comforting murmurs, and he was forced back a few steps. He watched Dottie as she gave herself a few moments to grieve, then tapped into the rod of steel he would swear she had instead of a backbone, took a deep breath, and drew herself up to sit tall. She dabbed at her tears with a tissue someone had placed into her hand. As the other women continued to crowd her, she looked up at Jimmy with a message written clear in her eyes: _Get me out of here_.

"All right, all right," he said to the gathered women, stepping forward through the mob. Dottie rose to her feet, and Jimmy placed a hand at her back partially to steady her and partially to insert himself in front of the other distraught girls. He saw Miss Cuthbert at the locker room door and waved at the others to clear a path for Dottie. She turned her head to him, said, "Thank you," then walked out of the locker room and out of his life.

That night, he got very, very drunk.

\----------

Stilwell-the-brat was skipping back and forth in front of the dugout singing, "You're gonna lose!" Jimmy cut short the last-minute instructions he was giving to Doris and grabbed the nearest hard object. "Stilwell! Com'ere!" he threatened, waving the bat at the boy to drive him into the dugout. Jimmy then pointed the bat at Evelyn, instructing her in no uncertain terms to keep her son in line for this game. _I have too many things to worry about today, that kid shouldn't be one of them,_ he thought.

The Peaches had made it to game seven of the World Series by the skin of their teeth, and the strain was showing. His players were exhausted. No one in the stands would notice, but he knew these girls and he knew ball players, and by both accounts they were just about wiped out. The only thought that gave him any comfort was that the Belles were just as tired. Hell, Kit Hanson had been pulled from the game earlier this morning after collapsing in the heat. He supposed that thought gave him some relief, too; Kit's innate skill plus her knowledge of the Peaches' hitters' weaknesses had given Racine the advantage in the early games.

He paced over to the bullpen to check on Ellen Sue. She claimed to be fresh, but she had pitched games two, four, and six already, and that kind of strain would be hell on any arm. _At least as former Miss Georgia she has experience keeping cool in front of a crowd_ , he thought. He turned on Alice.

"Alice, if Ellen Sue doesn't have anything, you don't keep it a secret, you understand me?" he said, pacing around her. "You tell me; you tell me right away. You understand me?" Alice was silent. That was unusual. Jimmy's voice raised in irritation. "Do you hear me?!"

Unfolding from her catcher's crouch, Dottie Hinson stood and pushed back her mask. "Yeah, you're screamin', I hear ya."

Jimmy stood, dumbfounded, at the woman standing before him. His eyes scanned over her face, her gear, the ball held in her hand. Her expression was tense and guarded, but her shoulders were loose, and she stood casually in her chest protector as if she were born in it--or perhaps had emerged, fully geared up, from the waves of Lake Michigan. He blinked that image away and asked, "Where did you come from?"

She looked away from him, focusing somewhere in the outfield. "After the funeral, I didn't have much to do. I thought I'd come back to at least see Kit play in the final game, but since she was taken out..." She looked directly into his eyes. "This gives me something to do. Besides, I'm no quitter."

Jimmy's thoughts were waging a war to rival the one across the Pacific. Most of him was a jumbled cheer of, "Best player! Fresh! We'll win! Unbeatable!" but there was a small corner of his brain flashing red. He focused on that corner, and all the worry he had been unconsciously carrying for Dottie for the past few weeks rose to awareness.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked, stepping closer to her. "I know it's the big game, but you've been through a lot recently--"

"Don't patronize me," she said. "I'm here to play."

"Okay," Jimmy said. He turned his head to spit a gob of chaw, and also because he feared he would break if he kept looking at her. It was moments before game seven of the World Series, and God had placed a ball player in his lineup in the form of a grieving widow holding herself together by sheer force of will and love of the game. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Fine, you'll play."

She nodded at him, then lowered her mask as she crouched and signaled to Ellen Sue to continue their warm-up.

Jimmy walked back to the dugout, a manic grin spreading across his face. "We're gonna win," he said, with wonder increasing to certainty. "We're gonna win!"

\----------

Immediately after the game, reporters pinned Jimmy down with questions just outside of the dugout. In his peripheral vision he saw the field, with the girls jumping all over each other in a victory mob, then saw Dottie rise into the air as they lifted her onto their shoulders. He kept one eye on the crowd of women as he ranted at the reporters about the intricacies of the final play. When the girls lowered Dottie back to her feet, he broke off what he was saying, waved off the reporters, and jogged over to his crowd of players. He found Dottie standing near Doris and Mae; the two were simultaneously chattering a mile a minute about their win. Jimmy looked over their heads to catch Dottie's eye. The smile she had been wearing for the crowd--players and fans alike--faded slightly as she looked into his face. 

"Good game," he said, and was rewarded when the smile she then gave him was bolstered with a flash of light, small but still perceptible, returning to her eyes.

\----------

Jimmy cringed and blinked into the morning sunlight. _Why did I agree to do this again?_ he wondered. It was the first morning of spring training for the second season of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League, and Jimmy hadn't been awake this early in weeks. In fact, he'd been overdoing it on the late nights. Lots of owners enjoyed spending time with baseball-legend-and-World-Series-winning-manager Jimmy Dugan, and Lowenstein had leaned on him to please the owners as much as possible. Happy owners meant a stable league, and a stable league meant another chance at the Series. If he had a team worth fielding, that is; he didn't know. Some players he knew were returning, some weren't, and some he hadn't heard from in months. The last group gave him the most worry.

He walked across the gravel parking lot of Beyer Stadium and into the side entrance. As he traversed the familiar hallways toward his office and the locker room, the babble of women's voices became audible. Then a short figure rounded a corner ahead of him in a run and collided with Jimmy's torso. The kid fell backwards onto his ass, blinked in confusion for a moment, then began wailing.

"Stilwell, angel, what's wrong?" Evelyn's worried voice came around the corner just before the woman herself. She stopped short when she saw the figure standing before her son. "Mr. Dugan!" she exclaimed. She leaned back around the corner at the locker room. "Hey everyone, Mr. Dugan is here!"

"Evelyn, you keep that kid in line!" Jimmy said, stepping over Stilwell to continue down the hall. "Consider it your official second job on this team." He turned the corner and walked into the locker room to see what lineup awaited him.

Marla was there, bent over awkwardly to tie her cleats, getting her shoelace caught on her wedding ring. She looked up at him and gave a tentative smile. Near her, Alice and Shirley were in a conversation with a girl he didn't recognize. Doris sat on a bench with Mae standing behind her, brushing out her hair; they both stopped to greet Jimmy warmly. Ellen Sue held a mirror up as she powdered her nose, then handed the mirror off to an unfamiliar girl to do the same. Jimmy tallied up the skills and experience of each familiar face he saw, nodding in greeting and approval together. He ticked them off in his head: slugger, good speed, gets her socks dirty, ace, slap hitter, not the fastest, good range, cannon for an arm, excellent lead-off hitter. Not a bad crop, but there definitely was room for improvement.

Stilwell ran into the locker room with Evelyn close behind, and Jimmy turned to give them both a reminder of their relative worth. His words caught partway out as he saw the woman who had been standing against the wall behind him, unseen as he had walked straight into the room. His face broke out into a grin.

"Mrs. Hinson," he greeted her, and she smiled back.

"Mr. Dugan," she said. "How nice of you to finally join us this morning."

"Well..." he drawled. "I wanted to avoid all the excited females who haven't seen each other in months. There's only so much squealing I can take."

"I'll spare your ears, then," she said dryly. She bent to pick up her glove from the bench nearby. "Ellen Sue," she called out, "Let's see how soft that Georgia winter made you!"

Jimmy watched the two head out through the dugout, then turned on the women remaining in the locker room. "Well?" Jimmy asked. "Get your butts out on the field and get warm!"

\---------

Dottie rotated her arm to work out the stiffness in her shoulder as she surveyed the field. It had taken the few weeks of training to adjust to the new players, but the team was working as a group now, and she felt they might have a crack at another title if they didn't screw it up.

She looked back toward home plate, where Rebecca, one of the new players, was struggling against Ellen Sue's curveballs. Jimmy was animatedly talking to her and miming grip and swing. When Rebecca smiled and nodded at him, he gave her a slap on the back and stepped away. She hit a solid double on Ellen Sue's next pitch. Jimmy gave her a cheer and went to oversee Doris and Mae's work catching pop flies.

 _A year ago, he was sleeping it off in the dugout_ , Dottie thought.

\---------

The bus rolled to a halt, and the driver conferred briefly with Jimmy and Miss Cuthbert. The spot wasn't legal; the bus was blocking access to a fire plug. Jimmy eventually gave up trying to convince the driver to stay, muttering to himself as he pulled five dollars from his wallet and handed it over to the driver.

"All right, everybody out!" he yelled at the bus full of women (and one Stilwell.) He hustled them out onto the main drag in front of a sandwich shop. "We're gonna stop here and get something to eat, and the bus will be back for us in 45 minutes. You get that? Forty-five minutes!" He saw a small figure start to dart away from the crowd. "Evelyn, if Stilwell wanders into traffic, I'm not gonna stop him!"

Dottie had just witnessed Doris and Mae whispering into Stilwell's ear and pointing, and so was the only one paying attention to see the two sneak off in the opposite direction, toward a bar on a corner down the street. She hid a smile behind her gloved hand.

Jimmy leaned over to her. "I need a drink," he muttered conspiratorially.

"I'll buy you a pop," she said. She grabbed him by the elbow and steered him into a shop coincidentally located in the opposite direction of the bar.

\---------

Dottie threw her mask down on the bench. "Why in the hell would you call a walk on Carol Baker when Debby Martin was up?"

"Because I'm the manager, I get to make that call," Jimmy shot back. The rest of the team filtered into the dugout around them, conspicuously silent.

"And I'm the catcher, and I get to tell you when you're full of shit." Dottie fought at the straps of her chest protector.

"Carol's a solid batter, and she hits well off of Ellen Sue. Getting her out of the way was a good call!"

"Not when it puts three runs up!"

"Debby hitting a dinger like that is a complete fluke!"

"Not when she's backed into a corner!"

"She's a line hitter! Getting Carol onto first was the only way to ensure a double play!"

Dottie finally managed to wrestle the protector off. "Perhaps you should look up the definition of the word 'ensure,'" she said. "I think you're using it wrong." She stalked into the dugout.

"Perhaps you should look up 'manager'!" Jimmy shouted after her. He slumped down on the bench, sighed, and pulled out a cigarette.

\---------

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk thunk._

Jimmy raised his head and peered around blearily. The clock on the hotel nightstand read 1:50. The room was dark and empty. There was no sign of whatever had awakened him.

_Thunk._

Jimmy sat up and looked at the window. It faintly vibrated in the light. 

_Thunk._

Jimmy lurched out of bed and stumbled to the window, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He unlatched the pane and swung in it just as another pebbled sailed up and hit him in the chest.

"Hey, what gives?" he asked, peering down to the ground below. A young kid was standing hidden in the bushes. _A little too old for pranks_ , Jimmy thought.

"Miss Gaspers told me to get you," the kid said.

"Alice?" Jimmy said. "What? She asked you to get me? Where?"

"Yeah," the kid said. "They need you down at Jerry's."

"Jerry's? Where the hell is that?"

"C'mon, I'll take you."

Jimmy grumbled as he pulled on the previous day's clothes, but he was dressed and downstairs in a flash. 

When they arrived at Jerry's Roadhouse, Dottie was waiting outside. She was wearing a short blue dress with a shawl clutched around her, and Jimmy found himself slightly distracted from the bizarre situation at the sight of her in such attire. He shook his head to clear it and got out of the kid's car. Dottie ran up to meet him.

"What in the hell is going on here?" he demanded.

Dottie waved her hands in a calming manner. "Don't worry, don't worry, it's all settled."

"What's all settled? Why are you here? Where's Alice?" Jimmy made for the door of the bar.

Dottie ran in front of him. "I said calm down! Geez, Jimmy, just give me a second." Jimmy stopped, crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Some of the girls snuck out tonight. Don't give that look! You know it happens." Jimmy had opened his mouth, but her admonishment was so fervent that he swallowed what he was about to say. "We were rounding up to go home, and we couldn't find Doris and Mae. We lost them for about an hour. A couple of us were out looking, but Alice panicked and asked Peter here to go get you."

"Hi," the kid said.

"Lost? They're found now?" Jimmy asked.

She nodded. "I found them... Well, I found them, and they're fine. They're inside now, sheepishly apologizing for everyone they made worry."

"I'm glad they're OK." He shook his head. "Mostly because I'd hate to be the guy who tried to mess with those two."

Dottie laughed. "I know exactly what you mean," she said.

"So?" Jimmy said, all seriousness again. "Problem solved, I was just dragged out of my bed in the middle of the night for nothing?"

"Alice is now beside herself that she's gotten everyone kicked off of the team. If you could go in and assure her, and them, that our futures are secure...?"

"Of course, calming hysterical women is what I love best."

Jimmy walked into the bar, Dottie beside him. Pairs of men and women were dancing, others drinking, but his small group of women was clustered together at a table looking worried. Alice jumped to her feet with an, "Eep!" when she saw Jimmy approaching the table.

"Sit down, Alice!" he instructed, and she collapsed back into her seat. The other faces looked up guiltly at him. "Now girls," he began, giving stern looks at each of them, but then he looked up into the heavens and sighed. "Don't do this again, and if you do--which you shouldn't--don't scare each other so much that you wake me up from my beauty sleep!"

"We're sorry, Mr. Dugan!" the female voices said in chorus.

"But since I'm here," he said, hooking a chair with his foot to pull it under him, "I might as well have a drink."

An hour later, he bent a conspiratorial head toward Dottie. "So where did you find them, really?" he asked.

She looked at him, eyes flicking up and down, and tapped her finger against her glass. Finally she answered. "Asleep in a car together."

He cackled triumphantly. "Whose car?"

She shrugged, grinning at his reaction. "I think they tried every door handle in the lot. They should be glad no one accidentally drove off with them."

He indicated across the room, where the two women were dancing with a pair of men who looked to be brothers. "Look at them, putting on a show. Those poor boys won't know what hit 'em."

"Mae's old hat at this, and she's probably taught Doris some of her tricks," Dottie said. "Besides, you don't have to be interested in someone to dance with them."

"Is that so?" Jimmy mused into his beer. There was a moment of silence, then he placed the glass down, stood up, and offered his hand to Dottie. "Would you like to dance, then?"

Her grin faltered, and she gave him the same searching look she had given moments ago. Jimmy's stance didn't waver, but inside he was willing himself not to sweat. _How long should I stand here before_ \--

His thought was cut off as Dottie rose to her feet and took his hand. "I'm not as acrobatic as Mae," she warned. "Don't swing me around or flip me."

"Don't worry," he answered. "The knee won't let me even try."

\---------

The first of the fireworks screamed into the sky and burst into a shower of red sparks. The crowd remaining in Chicago's Harvey Stadium erupted into cheers.

Though the cheers carried through the cement, the Rockford Peaches' locker room was subdued. Most of the players had already changed and either gone into the stadium to watch the fireworks ceremony or left for the hotel to pack. Dottie gathered the last of her things as the locker room emptied. She looked around the familiar area. _Has it really only been a year?_ she wondered.

She headed to exit into the hallway and ran into Jimmy coming the other way. "Oh, hey, hey!" he said, jumping back. "I thought everyone was out. I was just going to lock up."

"It's clear now," Dottie said. "I was just going to go join the girls in the stadium. I missed the early bus to the hotel."

"Well, give me one moment, and I'll walk you there," Jimmy said. He darted past her to give the locker room a sweeping glance, then stepped back out and locked the door. He turned. Dottie had begun to walk down the hall towards the main stadium entrance. 

"Wait," Jimmy called out impulsively. Dottie stopped, then slowly swiveled back to face him. She gave him a quizzical look.

"I, uh..." He lifted his ball cap to run a hand across his hair. "I walked Carol Baker on Debby Martin again."

Dottie shifted her weight. "So you did."

"Debby hit a single, and we got the double play."

"So we did."

"I just wanted to point that out," he said lamely.

"We still lost the game."

"Yeah, well," he said. "I can't know every outcome."

"Obviously," she said. Then she smiled. "But you're a good manager, Jimmy."

"I've got a good team."

"They're good girls," she agreed.

The noise of another firecracker echoed through the hall. "Are you coming back next year?" he suddenly blurted out.

She leaned over to drop her bags on the ground, buying herself time before answering. "I... I don't know. I hadn't thought that we might lose the series, and somehow that meant I hadn't thought beyond that, either. Some of the girls were talking about getting apartments here, and Papa says he's got the farm taken care of, but he always could use more hands..."

"This team needs your hands," Jimmy said. "Your hands and your brain and all of you." Dottie was silent. Jimmy forged ahead. "I know you don't believe me that you're the best player, but you've got to know how invaluable you are to me as a coach. You said I was a good manager? I'd still be drunk in the dugout if it weren't for you."

"You still are sometimes," Dottie pointed out.

"And you and the girls still sneak out past Miss Cuthbert to go dancing at night," Jimmy said.

"I haven't gone since the night..." she trailed off and looked away from him. "Since the night Alice made a fuss."

"Oh," he said. _Since the night we danced,_ he thought.

"So, yeah," she said. "I know... I know that I'm useful to the team. I know how you feel, and I'm--"

"Do you?" Jimmy interrupted, suddenly intense. He stepped closer to her. "Do you know how I feel?"

Dottie swiveled her head to look at him with wide eyes.

"Do you know how it feels to see you lead this team? Do you know how it feels when you hit the ball out of the park, and how it feels when you catch a foul to end the game, and I can see your smile from across the field?" Another firework went off outside. "Do you know how it feels to know that every single person on this team, including me, has been carried by you at some point, and none of those idiotic owners will ever notice the fact and give you the respect you deserve?"

"I don't need their respect," Dottie protested.

"I know you don't. You don't need anyone's approval, and you damn sure don't need anyone's help." Jimmy stopped to pull his cap off, running another hand through his hair. "You know, you're right. We don't need you here. We've got other, stronger hitters, and Alice can cover home pretty well when she has to. The team would pull together fine without you. But," he gestured with the cap between his hands, "We want you here, dammit. I've gotten used to having you around, and I don't want to even go the summer without having you tear into me on a weekly basis, much less more seasons. But more important than what I want is all those players who would suffer from having to deal with an unfiltered Jimmy Dugan around." He shook his head. "The future of the league is uncertain. Harvey's agreed to cut my pay to lower costs, but it's not that big of a dent. If this league is going down, I'd like to ensure that all of my girls get to play as much good ball as possible, and I think the best ball happens when you're playing it with them."

Dottie grasped at the one difficult-to-believe statement she had heard that did not directly reference her. "You asked for a pay cut?"

"Yeah," Jimmy said. He looked down and tried to fold his hat back into shape. "Actually, they offered me another job, in Wichita. I turned it down."

"Triple-A? Jimmy, that's a fantastic opportunity, you should take it!"

"Nah," he said. "I've already got a team."

Dottie stared at the man in front of her who had once sat through games drunk, because all he needed to get paid was to wave his hat around, who now was turning down some amount of his pay--and a job opportunity with more money and prestige--to try to help his team continue to play. The man who had gone from shouting in players' faces to giving them positive feedback. The man who had been next to her for the past year but never looked down at her, who treated her as an equal and gave her her space. The man who had, just a few moments ago, said he didn't want to go the summer without her... Well, without her arguing with him.

Dottie reached out a hand and laid it on Jimmy's where he still clutched his cap. "When you said you wanted me around to tear into you weekly...is it okay if we see each other more than that, without the fighting?"

Jimmy blinked in surprise. Then, suddenly, he clutched Dottie's hand and pulled her close, wrapping his other arm around her back. She smiled and reached her free arm up and around his neck, pulling his face down to hers.

The noise of another firework bursting outside echoed down the hallway.

\---------

When Dottie and Jimmy arrived together for the first day of spring training the next year, others were still gathered in the parking lot. Doris saw them exit the car first and nudged Mae in the ribs. Mae caught Jimmy's eye and smirked until he looked pointedly at Doris and raised an eyebrow back at Mae. Mae's face then transformed into a grin that Jimmy echoed back.

"What?" Dottie asked, seeing Jimmy's face. He looked at her. The morning sun reflected in the light of her eyes.

"We're gonna win," he said.


End file.
